In Which School Is Cancelled And Boredom Sets In
by RahmEmanuel
Summary: A teenage Mycroft is bored, and decides to show his younger brother the fun of dissection. Rated K for graphic descriptions of bird guts and fluffy Holmescest. Can be read as a sequel to Rules, but easily stands alone.


Today had proven to serve as nothing, save, perhaps, an expression of boredom at its purest form. This chain of tedium had begun when some dunderhead with the public works office had decided to temporarily close down the only secondary school in the district, offering as an excuse only the existence of "structural issues".

I had not attended any sort of educational program in nearly two weeks, as the remodelling efforts were deemed a "danger to students". As if that wasn't bad enough, (yes, I happened to be one of those freaks that actually _enjoyed_ the schooling process,) there existed absolutely nothing else to occupy my time.

Within the first ten days, I had read and reread every book in the house, and the distance to the library exceeded the parameters set on the issue of how far I was permitted to travel without direct supervision. Father hadn't hesitated to bar me from his study, which, considering the fact that my scientific instruments had been left behind at the school, was the only location that had even retained the slightest chance of entertaining me; and, worst of all, my brother's school remained open. Here I was, forced to remain at home, while he went off day after day to obtain near limitless amounts of new information. It was sickening.

Of course, it wasn't all bad. He had promised to retrieve a scalpel from the science room for me, so that when he returned I would be able to instruct him on the proper means of dissection, with the help of the dead bird that I had discovered on the back porch just the other day.

That is, if he ever arrived home. I checked the clock again, just to ensure that I was not mistaken. I wasn't, of course. I never am.

It was 3:31 pm. I knew from past experience that, was he to return directly back here when the school day ended as he was instructed to do, 'Lock would arrive at some point between 3:07 and 3:13. Obviously, he had disobeyed me. Sighing, I slumped down in the old leather chair, the only seat in the house that was both comfortable and provided an acceptable view of the front door. He _knew_ the boredom that I faced, and yet he insisted on prolonging it.

In an effort to amuse myself, I began to work through quadratic equations in my head, but they quickly grew old, and I had no textbooks to present me with new types of mathematical exercises. Fortunately for the both of us, my brother chose that moment to slowly creak open the door and shuffle into the room, a guilty expression on his face and a hand running through the dark curls atop his head.

I narrowed my eyes, standing up and walking over to him. "You," I stated in as calm a voice as I could manage, "are late."

Shifting slightly on his feet, the little boy looked away. "Uh, yeah, Mrs. Coppers wanted me to stay after to make up a test..."

God, it was almost embarrassing how poor of a liar he was. I bent down to his level and looked him straight in the eye, allowing no opportunity for him to avoid my gaze. "That is bollocks, and you know it. " Giving him a quick once over, I continued. "On the way home, you decided to play in the creek, where you stayed for approximately 17 minutes, before building a stick fort that you abandoned half way through in order to chase after a squirrel. In fact, it was only when you ran past the big clock on Evensong Street that you realized the time and decided to come home."

"Darn it, Mikey! How do you always do that? It isn't fair!"

"No, it isn't. Did you bring the scalpel?"

He sighed softly, but, without argument, trudged over to where his backpack lay abandoned next to the door. "Yeah, I got it. Is the bird still there?"

I rolled my eyes, snatching the blade from his hand before administering a sharp smack to the back of his head. "Of course it is. I said it would be, didn't I?"

I had to hold back a chuckle as 'Lock huffed in annoyance, his entire being suggestive of nothing more than a moping child. Which, I reminded myself, he was. I frowned. Perhaps I was a little hard on the boy...

But then, of course, he had to ruin my moment of sympathy by opening his mouth. "It was raining pretty hard during the day, is all. I thought, maybe the water destroyed the body, or something."

I looked at him, incredulous. "Do you really think that, at any point in your life, you came to any sort of conclusion that _I_ hadn't at _least_ ten minutes before? Honestly, 'Lock, if you noticed the rain, there is no doubt that I did as well, and, instead of whining, actually did something about it."

He stomped his foot, his lip beginning to quiver. "I was only trying to help!"

"No, you weren't. You were only trying to seem clever." Sensing the tears that were on the verge of falling from his eyes, I softened my tone. "I saw that the weather was beginning to turn bad, so I propped my umbrella up against the side of the house in a position that protected the bird. It didn't even get wet, I promise."

"...Okay. Can we go and look at it, now?"

I nodded and took his hand, leading through the house and out the back door. The instant that we were outside, he broke free of my hold and scrambled across the uneven planks that made up the patio until he was able to crouch down next to the undisturbed carcass of the unfortunate animal.

Smiling slightly, I followed, picking up my umbrella and carefully setting it aside before kneeling next to him. Eagerly, he reached for the scalpel, but I pulled it out of his reach. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

Placing the instrument down next to me, I used my now-free hand to point to the bird. "Tell me how it died."

He got on his hands and knees, craning his neck downwards so that the ruffled feathers of the dead creature were nearly brushing his nose. Within an instant, the look of determination that had occupied his face switched to one of pride. "It broke its neck!"

"And how did you figure that?"

He pointed enthusiastically. "See? Its head is all bent back!"

I smiled and patted his head. "Yes, that's very good. Now, can you tell me how the neck was broken?"

He blinked, looking to me in confusion. "How would I know that?"

"Think. You _do_ know how to think, don't you?"

Now he glared, clenching his fists. "Of course I do! Just because I'm younger than you, doesn't mean I'm stupid!" I couldn't help but laugh at the indignation displayed before me. "Stop laughing! It isn't funny! Stop it, Mikey!"

I ruffled his hair, trying to calm my amusement. After all, it wouldn't do to have my sole companion in such a state that he was unwilling to interact with me. It was time to get back to the subject at hand. "Look at the bird. Tell me how its neck was broken."

It was obvious by his expression that he was struggling to bite back an argument, but, apparently having come to the same conclusion that I had, he allowed whatever he was about to say go and turned back to the bird. "I don't see anything..."

It was becoming harder and harder to refrain from just shoving the young boy aside and performing this autopsy on my own, but I had plenty of time for that later. This one was for my brother. "Think, Sherlock. Tell me what you can see about the neck."

He wrinkled his nose in concentration. "It's bent."

Well... that was certainly a start. "Good. How is it bent?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is it twisted around, or bent backwards?"

He took another look. "Backwards." I didn't reply, waving my hand in an effort to urge him into continuation. "It's... it's snapped back. Like something smashed into it." His eyes widened as he looked from the side of the house to the bird, a look of understanding making its way onto his face. "It flew into the wall! That's what broke its neck!"

"Exactly!" I kissed his forehead. "There, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?" He shook his head, beaming in an unmitigated fit of childish glee. "Are you ready to begin the dissection?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright. I'm going to give you the scalpel, but first, I need you to promise that you won't begin to cut until I give you specific instructions."

"I promise! I promise!" Cautiously, I handed it to him and returned my hand to my side, only to end up snapping it back out to grab his wrist as he went to make the first slice.

"Hey! What did I just tell you?" He at least had the decency to appear ashamed, although the look soon turned to one of anger when I said, "Right, I'll be making the incisions."

"What? No fair! You promised this time was my turn!"

Well aware of how smug my tone had become, I smirked and ruffled his hair again. "That was before you disobeyed me, now wasn't it, brother dear?" He opened his mouth, but I quickly silenced him again with another strike to the head. "I'm going to begin, now. If you care to watch, you may do so silently. Otherwise, the door is to your right, and I urge you to use it."

His soft grumbling soon died off, as he leaned forward in a display of rapt attentiveness, watching awestruck as I initiated the delicate operation. Once I had successfully slit the corpse and pried open its rib cage, I pointed to various innards. "What's that one?"

"Stomach."

"Good." I removed it from the body and set it down for him to observe, before indicating another. "That one?"

"Uh... spleen?"

"Close. It's the liver."

Now it was his turn to point. "That's the heart, right? And those are the lungs?"

I smiled. "Very good. You may remove them, if you wish." I handed the knife to him, and he leaned in over the small body. "Just be careful not to damage the intestines."

"Got it." Slowly, carefully, he remover the indicated organs with the bloodied scalpel, before carefully arranging them next to the stomach.

"You're doing wonderfully. Give it back, now. I'm going to sever a wing."

"Alright. Will I get to do more, later?"

I smiled. "Perhaps."

That was all that he needed, and soon the medical instrument was back in my hand and cutting smoothly through the plumage and bone. When the wing was thoroughly removed from the body, I handed it to him. "Hold it."

He cradled the wing to his chest, using one finger to daintily stroke the feathers. "It's beautiful..."

"Yes, it is. Do you want to see the bone? The structure is quite fascinating."

"No... I want to keep it this way. We can do more later."

"Alright. Shall we head inside?"

"Okay."

I stood up and offered him a hand, slightly impatient when he proceeded to tenderly position the wing atop the pile of organ before moving to take it. "I'm waiting, you know."

All anger was lost when he beamed up at me and grabbed onto my hand, heaving himself to his feet. "Sorry. Can you read me a story, now?"

I thought it over, weighing the advantage of a happy Sherlock cuddled up against me against the disadvantage of having to suffer through whatever horrendously boring children's book he chose. "Hmm... alright. But you have to let me choose what we read." He nodded eagerly, dark curls of hair bouncing along with the movements, and I could no longer suppress a smile. "Come inside, you imbecile."

He thought for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels, before thrusting his arms decisively into the air. "Carry me?"

I let out a dramatic huff, and batted him good-naturedly on the back of the head. "Sherlock Sherrinford Holmes, you are nine years old and more than capable of walking ten metres into the house, you little bum!"

He displayed what could only be described as some sort of cross between a giggle and a whine. "But Mikeeey! I want you to carry meee!" His pout quickly transformed into a smug grin as I bent down to lift him up, before he darted forward and planted a quick kiss on my lips.

I rolled my eyes and gently shoved him away. "Really, Sherlock, if you absolutely _must _act on your ridiculous little crush on me, at least have the decency to do so when we're not outside and in full view of the public."

He slumped, the pout having returned. "You didn't kiss me back!"

"No, I didn't. Not when there's the possibility of being seen, those are the rules and you know them. Now, inside, or I'll drag your scrawny behind in there myself!"

"Carry me?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Pretty please?"

"...Fine."

"Love you."

"Whatever."


End file.
